


Young Adult Frankenstein

by thirstaidkit



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Asphyxiation, Choking, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dark Reylo, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inspired by Frankenstein, Literary References & Allusions, Mad Science, Moral Bankruptcy, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Frankenstein, Shades of Necrophilia, Shameless Smut, be forewarned, gothic horror, mel brooks has been here, no happy ending, they're going down hand in unloveable hand, this is probably going to be fucked up, weird science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirstaidkit/pseuds/thirstaidkit
Summary: A dark! drama/sex comedy Frankenstein AU. Rey Palpatine is a brilliant cellular biologist and geneticist continuing her grandfather's work to discover the secrets of the universe. When he dies and she returns home, she determines to finish what he started.But what do you do with the perfect man once you've built him?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 43
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benevolentmonsters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benevolentmonsters/gifts).



> gods help and forgive me, I didn't plan this. It just came out.
> 
> It's all @benevolentmonsters' fault. <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://imgur.com/allweMd)

She had been in the lab when the letter had come. Of course she had - didn’t everything always happen when she was working? But then, she was always working. The boy had knocked shyly who knows how many times before her concentration had been broken. She resented the intrusion. There was nothing like losing herself in the magic of watching the cells she’d so carefully nurtured begin to grow and divide on their own through the lens of the powerful microscope. She continued to ignore him a moment longer, just on principle. 

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Dr. Palpatine?” He pronounced it with the long I, which she hated. Reflexively, she corrected him.

“It’s Palpat _ine_ , you imbecile. With an _een_. How many times must I tell you?” He muttered an uncomfortable apology and skedaddled, leaving her with the large manila envelope he’d come to deliver.

It was a letter from her grandfather’s attorney. So the old man had finally died. Alone and howling like the bitter, unloveable prick he was, no doubt. Despite the fact that he had been the only family she’d ever known, Rey felt no grief or regret at his passing. Sheev had pushed everyone and everything else away in his single-minded obsession with conquering death via science; even, ultimately, the girl who had spent her entire life and academic career helping to further his goals. Perhaps if he’d been more supportive and appreciative of her efforts, he would have succeeded. She felt herself very close indeed to cracking the eternal riddle. 

The news had come just in time. Along with the letter of condolence, Enric Pryde, Esquire had sent a copy of the will, of which she was the sole beneficiary, as well as the deed and keys to their ancestral home, to which her grandfather had retired after the University of Exegol had kicked him out. 

Breaches of ethics, they had said. As though ethics had any place here, on the cutting edge of possibility. Science was about the desire to know; about reaching for what previous generations would have thought supernatural. That was how progress happened. Had Oppenheimer held back his achievements? No, he’d looked upon his works and quoted “I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.” Well, she would become Life. Mainstream academia was not ready for what they hoped to achieve, but that was no matter.

What she would achieve. On her own now, as it should be. No old man to steal the credit for her innovations, her genius. He had begun the work, true. But she was going to finish it. 

She packed up her research, drafted a letter of resignation, and prepared to make the long journey home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey Palpatine is a terrible person. Really just the worst. And so's her gramps.

When the last train let her off in the village at the foot of the hill, the evening was already dense with fog. Rising out of it in the near distance was the manse, an imposing structure starkly silhouetted against the sky above the mist. She was given a ride that last mile by none other than the local constable; a stiff little facist by the name of Hux who eyed her suspiciously and asked hedging questions about her grandfather’s research. He suggested that the manse had accrued a reputation among the locals as being haunted, or at least cursed. With polite condescension, she reassured him.

Grandfather had lacked the vision to do the thing properly, using methods to obtain his specimens that were sure to draw attention. You couldn’t just go graverobbing in this day and age, no matter how small and backwards a place you lived in. People just wouldn’t stand for it.   
She had more sense. She had brought hers from home.

She had been collecting them for a long time now. The University had included a teaching hospital, and she had been able to gain access to their almost limitless supply of cadavers. She had taken DNA samples from perhaps a hundred of them, selecting for the best specimens she could find. Strength, stature, beauty, intelligence. These things mattered. If one was to go to the trouble of building a human being from scratch, you ought to make him as perfect as possible. 

Upon arriving at the house, Rey was greeted by the housekeeper. Frau Phasma was a massive teutonic beast of a woman. She had heavily muscled arms and an adoring veneration in her voice when she spoke on the subject of the old man that made Rey suspect there had been more to their relationship than was quite proper. She certainly hadn’t earned her keep by cleaning the place. There were cobwebs and thick, gritty dust everywhere.

Everywhere but in the master bedroom, where her antecedent stared down at her with hateful yellowed eyes from a portrait on the wall. Those eyes seemed to follow her about the room as she explored the bookshelves, leaving Phasma to carry in her bags. _She’s strong enough,_ Rey told herself. 

Her investigation was fruitful almost immediately. No sooner had the Frau left her to her own devices, sneaking a kiss from the painting on the way out, than Rey had discovered something. The removal of a certain candle from its sconce revealed a secret passageway that opened behind the bookcase.

It led to the laboratory, deep in the bowels of the place. It was well-appointed; cunningly designed to do just what she needed. Never mind the expired remains of failed clones that inhabited the vats; the cretin could handle that. 

His name was Igor (pronounced eye-gore, he’d insisted, but he didn’t seem worthy of naming to her. He was a creeping, misshapen thing with buggy eyes that were fixed in opposing directions. She wondered if he wasn’t the result of some experiment of her grandfather’s, and that’s how he had come to be here. If so, the experiment had been a failure, to be sure.

Once he’d cleaned it up, she would be ready to begin. She had everything she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you're enjoying the story so far - i'm flying by the seat of my pants and loving it!
> 
> I love to hear from you, whether that's in the comments, or on tumblr, where I'm @onesharedbraincell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do we do when we can't sleep? Play with dicks and the boundaries between life and death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna go ahead and TW this for non/dub-con because I think it's enough of a grey area to justify it, please keep an eye on the tags because they'll probably evolve. Although if you're already here in spite of the dead dove do not eat, you know what you're about, presumably.

Thunder crashed outside as lightning illuminated the room, waking Rey suddenly from a fitful sleep. She had been dreaming - something fraught about destiny, and the vague suggestion of her grandfather’s mockery echoed in her waking ears. 

She was sweaty; disheveled. Sleep felt impossible now, while the storm raged outside. She slipped a peignoir on over her flowy, friable nightgown and tiptoed barefoot down to the lab.

They had come a long way in a short time. From mere cells, she had coaxed him into being. Her creation - assembled from lab-grown parts, edited at the genetic level for maximum compatibility and cohesion. The detailed microsurgeries that had connected the fruits of her skill (the strongest heart she could grow, the most powerful lungs,the largest brain) into systems had stretched her limits, but they had also proven her abilities - even if only to herself. So far, there had been no issues with rejection, and he was nearly complete. The seams were barely visible - merely the barest slivers of scar tissue. They hardly detracted from the beauty of the whole.

_And he is beautifu;_ , she congratulated herself, looking him over as he lay on the table before her. Tall and strong; broadly built and nobly featured. Not to mention well-endowed. She’d outdone herself there. 

The body lay before her, uncovered; an empty vessel still, held in a state of stasis somewhere between life and death by the complicated apparatus to which it was connected. If she was right, all it would take to bring it to life now would be the application of energy in the correct amount. The spark of life. A jolt that would set off a thousand others, firing independently in muscle and neuron. For the moment, however, it was just meat. She let her fingers wander over it, smoothing a lock of damp black hair back from a pale brow, stroking the firm planes of chest and abdomen. 

She hesitated momentarily before she allowed herself to venture lower, afraid almost that he’d wake up and catch her in the act; though she knew it was impossible. Nevertheless, she was almost cautious at first in the way she touched the cock that lay nestled between his thighs, defenseless, harmless, and soft.

But not for long. Responding unconsciously to the manual stimulation, it began to grow in her hand, swelling to meet her encircling fingers. As she fondled it, it grew stiff and erect before her very eyes. _Fascinating._

Long ago, in a different life, Rey had studied Luigi Galvani’s experiments with frogs, and the way that even dead, their muscles would move independently when electrical connections were applied to a nerve. It was then that she’d realized that the line between dead and alive was much more blurry than most people assumed. What was life, anyway? Consciousness? The flesh on the table in front of her didn’t have this, yet somehow, the body knew. 

Excitement welled somewhere deep in Rey, making her thrill. She had meant to wait for morning and Igor to cross the line from which there was no going back, but something in her was insistent suddenly that now was the moment. 

She threw the switch and enormous energy coursed through her masterpiece, causing every muscle to tense simultaneously. The body’s rigidity caused it to arch away from the table, pressing painfully hard against the restraints. 

After only a few moments, it was over - whether from the surge in power, or perhaps as an effect of the lightning storm outside, there was a total systems shutdown. The lab was plunged into darkness for several seconds, during which Rey held her breath in anticipation. Then the backup generators kicked in, and the lights came back on. 

She watched in awe as his chest rose and fell. She put a hand out to feel it, steady and regular, the beat of his hard hammering beneath her hand like a drum that played itself. He whimpered softly.

Electricity was in the air all around them still, a current that she could feel all through her. She could taste the negative ions. The tiny hairs all over her body were standing on end, and she was vibrating with an excitement that made her pulse race and her cunt clench.

“It’s alive.” she whispered to herself, hardly daring to believe it was true. “It’s alive!” s triumphant shout escaped her, followed next moment by a cry of surprised dismay at the Igor’s unexpected reply from somewhere very nearby.

“You did it, mistress! Congratulations!” _Dear God, how long has he been lurking down here?_ She wondered. She ignored him. Her creation had opened his eyes and was looking at her. She had chosen well. They were pretty eyes, deep brown.

“Hello, gorgeous.” She murmured to him, trying to soothe him as he struggled against the restraints. “I’m Doctor Palpatine.” He stilled at her touch, quieted and stopped fighting as he looked into her eyes with what she hoped was intelligence. She tried not to notice the fact that his cock was still hard, and failed. 

“Pal-” the creature mimicked, trying to sound it out. “Pate. Peen.”

At her elbow, Igor dissolved into maniacal giggles. “You’ve already done that, mistress,” he panted. Disgusted, she turned a withering look his way. 

“Go away, Igor.” She said dismissively, before turning back to her experiment. “Tell you what:” she suggested, almost purring with satisfaction. “You can call me Doctor.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which your author is revealed as a filthy-minded sinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no comedy this chapter. this is serious business. she's doing it for SCIENCE, got it?

When she was sure Igor had slunk off somewhere and left them alone again, Rey shrugged on her lab coat. The cretin’s unwelcome interruption had left her feeling exposed; vulnerable even. She didn’t like it; the coat was like armor, in a way. _There. That was more like it._ With renewed confidence, Rey began to unhook her creation from the machines that had kept the unconscious vessel nourished and healthy. Now that he was properly alive and self-supporting, there was no longer any need for them. This task completed, she connected him instead to something else - wireless electronic sensors that would collect and transmit data on his heart and brain function. Methodically, she applied the adhesive gel to the sensor pads, firmly pressing them to the skin at his temples and on his chest.

All the while, his dark eyes remained fixed on her. She could feel them drinking her in, roving over her face and body as she bent over him, the thin layer of silky fabric she wore the only barrier between his bare flesh and her own. Sensors applied, Rey turned her attention to the drawing of blood samples. Analysis and documentation of every detail would be crucial when it came time to publish her findings. As the needle plunged into his vein, her creation jerked and struggled, fighting desperately against his restraints. The restrictive leather straps that encircled his body and bound him to the table creaked and strained with his efforts. He was quite strong, actually. That could present a problem.

She used a crank to raise the table, cantilevering him into an almost upright position, tilted at the perfect angle for her to come in very, very close. Her stroking fingers on his face soothed him until he was almost perfectly still again, but for the rise and fall of his chest with each ragged breath. 

“I want to make sure we understand one another.” She spoke quietly, breath tickling his ear as her fingertips traced over his full lips and down his broad chest, slick with sweat. “I _made_ you. Out of _nothing._ You. Belong. _Entirely._ To me. And I simply won’t tolerate bad behavior.” Her hand skimmed down over his belly, which tensed, abdominals rock hard in response to her questing fingers. “It would be a shame to have to destroy you,” she whispered. “but if it comes down to it, know that I won’t hesitate.”

“Of course,” she continued, pausing to spit demurely in her palm before lowering it again. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and began to pump up and down its length, as she searched his face for comprehension. His expression was impossible to read. “You’ll find I can be a merciful god - all you have to do is exactly what I tell you.” Her speed increased as she stroked him, handling him roughly, enjoying her power and control as he balanced helplessly on a knife’s edge between pleasure and pain, fruitlessly striving for greater range of movement as her tightly encircled fingers worked him. Despite what she had said, there was something merciless about it. 

His breath hitched as he climaxed with a low moan, face and chest flushing beautifully. _Excellent vasodilation._ “See? What a good boy you are,” she praised him, cool and stoic as she caught his spend in a test tube. She examined it clinically as she milked his cock through the aftershocks, careful to be sure she’d caught every drop of fluid. The vial she divided: most went into a centrifuge, which began to whirl merrily. A few drops she deposited on a slide for immediate examination under the microscope. 

When she had learned all she could from what she saw through its eyepiece, she sat at the desk with her back to him for a few minutes longer, recording her findings in a leather-bound log book. Deep in thought, she lingered, noting pulse rate, sperm motility, blood oxygen levels, anything she could think of. Finally, sighing, she roused herself. It was late, (early even) by now, and she hadn’t slept much. She didn’t do her best thinking when she was tired. Time to pack it in for the moment. She turned to look at her subject. 

Limp with exertion, he lay quiet, still but for the rise and fall of deep, heavy breaths. She wished he would speak again, as the voice with which he’d tried to croak her name had been rough and resonant. His steady gaze was still fixed solely on her despite the plethora of things to look at in the lab. In her pocket, a syringe was ready with a mild sedative. She didn’t think she’d need it tonight.

She raised the table further; to the limit of its vertical potential, and stood before him to remove his restraints. To free his head, she was forced to reach up, their bodies so close that she could feel the heat of him through her chemise. The fabric of the gown brushed against the head of his cock, silky and gentle as a breeze, and he whimpered almost inaudibly. 

Next she bent to free his feet, which flexed and toed the ground experimentally. Like the rest of him, they were oversized. She worked her way back up to his chest, unbuckling slowly as she watched for any sign that he was about to attack or run. 

None came. Pliant and weak as a newborn, the big man slumped forward, leaning on her for support. Slowly, they made their way upstairs together, where she put him to bed in the room she had prepared next to her own. She laid out clothes for him, simple things with no fastenings that had belonged to her grandfather. They would fit poorly - Sheev had been much shorter - but they would do for the time being. 

She locked him in, and retiring to her own room, immediately fell into a deep and satisfied sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna go on record here as saying this: in NO WAY am I trying to represent a healthy dom/sub relationship here. she's EVIL, guys. use a safe word. 
> 
> tell me what you think! I love to hear from you, so click a button or two and feed me! and if you don't already, come talk to me on tumblr @onesharedbraincell - i love my readers and i almost never bite. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

_From the notes of Dr. R. Palpatine:_

**10 a.m.**  
Following the success of last night’s endeavor with another battery of tests seems anticlimactic, but scientific rigor demands it. The subject slept for approximately five hours, and consumed a dozen eggs and four bowls of raisin bran at breakfast. Seems alert, and if not inquisitive, at least not totally lacking in comprehension. Attempts were made to teach him several words, and there was some indication that he was able to understand at least two - no and egg. No further speech as of yet.

\-------------

It was over breakfast, with Frau Phasma fussing over the “böhnchen” to an almost insufferable degree, that they’d hit on what to call him.

“ _Little_ bean. Come off it, there’s nothing little about him.” Igor had said. “Look at his ears! His hands!”

“His schwan--”

“Goes without saying. He’s going to be very popular.”

“Woof…..” Phasma had paused a moment to reflect. “Well, what _should_ we call him?” They had both turned to Rey.

“I don’t know! What does he need a name for? It’s not like he’s going to go get a social security card. He’s a bioenergetic novelty, not just some _person._ He’s more than that.” _My genius, made incarnate. My creation._

“That’s it!” Igor had crowed, eyes cast in opposite directions. In his enthusiasm, they goggled even worse than usual. Rey found it nauseating.”

“What is?” she choked, trying to keep her oatmeal down.

“ **B** io **E** nergetic **N** ovelty. **BEN**!”

They were interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

\---------

The townspeople, almost to a one, had strong feelings about the idea of another Palpatine setting up in the big house on the hill. They had been relieved to be shot of the last one. While it was an open secret that the man whom the local children called “ the mad doctor” had been conducting experiments on the dead, including the bodies of those who’d refused him permission, obtained illegally, a combination of old money, personal influence, and the fact that no one had ever actually caught him at it had insulated him from consequences. Relieved of the problem by Sheev’s death, the town fathers weren’t interested in giving Rey a chance to distance herself from her grandfather’s legacy. They were deeply suspicious; ready to run her out of town on a rail at a moment’s notice. They had been putting enormous pressure on the constable. In response, he had called in help.

Hux had to do _something_. One stroke of ill fortune could easily turn the townspeople into a mob; they were so on edge. And he was responsible for keeping order. So Inspector F. Kemp had been brought in to investigate - to put everyone’s mind at ease. He’d already begun at the town meeting the previous night, reminding the public that they had “Better make _damn_ sure they have evidence before taking any action.” He was the sort of man people listened to.

\----------------------

Igor showed the Inspector into a richly appointed drawing room, where Rey joined him a few minutes later. He cut a dashing figure. He had dark skin and deep-set eyes. His compact, muscular build was well-suited to the beautifully tailored uniform he wore; all dark wool and brass buttons and a little cap. The brave little soldier aesthetic was complicated by a subtle whiff of danger. In addition to the uniform, he wore a black silk eyepatch, like a pirate. _Was that a scar peeping out from under it?_ His right hand was a wooden prosthetic. He reached it out towards her as she approached, a bright smile spreading across his features when she took it and shook. 

“Doctor Palpatine, I presume?”

Rey tried not to grit her teeth, made a valiant effort, actually, to not let her annoyance show. “Palpateen.”

“Of course. Forgive me.” He bowed slightly, doffing his hat. “Police Inspector F. Kemp, at your service.”

He was charming, and apparently, charmed. He extended his welcome and expressed curiosity about her. He had been casually acquainted with her grandfather, he said. She gave him a tour of the property, (the lab excepted, of course), and before long they were chatting easily about small matters, as though they were old friends. _Please, call me Finn_ , he’d said by lunchtime. Nothing to be concerned about. He was easily handled. 

At one point, after he’d lingered for hours, eating, drinking brandy and playing darts, he caught a glimpse of Frau Phasma and Ben on the lawn. He may or may not have been chasing a butterfly. Rey recalled his attention quickly with a wayward throw that stuck in the wall, quivering. 

“Who’s that with your housekeeper? You got a boyfriend?” _Casual, relaxed._

“Well. I don’t know if I’d call him _that._ ” she insinuated carefully. He glanced back at the window, but the strange pair had moved out of sight around the house. They don’t make another appearance, and by the time he left that evening, Rey was confident that she had the Inspector right where she wants him. 

She went to bed warm from the brandy, self-satisfied and carefree. 

She woke to the terrifying knowledge that someone was standing over her bed, watching her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long gap between posts, i've been struggling with some creative blockage. the next chapter will be along much sooner.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the tables get turnt. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MIND THE TAGS THIS CHAPTER IS VERY DUBCON and also involves some choking/asphyxiation
> 
> here's a big question for you - can someone who was literally born yesterday comprehend consent? our boy is on a nonstandard developmental timetable: what are the rules?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was very challenging to write, please be gentler with me than he is with her.

Rey froze. The figure loomed over her, a still, yet palpable presence in the dark room.  
Outside, a cloud moved and a sliver of moonlight at the window illuminated the room. Not much, just enough. 

“Ben. How did you get in here? What are you--”

“No Doctor.” His voice was low. Rough; a deep baritone. She held her breath. He repeated it. “No Doctor.” Climbing to her knees, she hurried to light the candle on her nightstand. She needed to see his expression. The thought that she might still be in danger hovered on the edges of her consciousness, but she refused to indulge it. The match sparked and blazed in her fingers, and at the sight of it, he howled in fear.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay.” She soothed him, showing him the candle from across the bed. “See? Light.” He watched it with quiet suspicion. “Ben? Why are you in my room? What’s the matter?”

“No Doctor.” He looked earnest, needy. Was he upset at her absence today? Her preoccupation? As if she’d rather be anywhere besides in the lab, putting him through his paces. He closed the distance between them, gripping her shoulders as she knelt on the enormous old canopied bed. “You...belong,” he began haltingly, the unfamiliar words clumsy on his tongue, “Entirely. To me.” He pushed her down, using the weight of his massive body to pin her to the mattress. She sank into the soft eiderdown, struggling fruitlessly, bashing her fists harmlessly against his hard shoulders.

“I’ll scream.” Even as she said it, she realized that screaming would probably be useless. The manse was enormous, and it was entirely possible that neither Frau Phasma nor Igor would even hear her; much less come to her rescue, much less be able to fight him off. He was so _strong. Just like you made him._ He clapped a huge, meaty hand over her mouth, his thumb beneath her chin locking her jaw shut; ensuring she couldn’t bite him. She would have.

He lowered his head and she felt his hot breath at her ear. The rumble of his voice sounded again, so close it felt like it came from inside her. “I won’t tolerate bad behavior.” 

Her own words to him, flung back in her face. _So this is how it’s going to be._ She stopped fighting and took stock of the situation. It was difficult to think clearly, under the circumstances, but Rey prided herself on her ability to assess a thing in all its parts and understand how they fit together. 

_How was it possible?_ His vocabulary and comprehension were too advanced, it didn’t make sense. Genetic memory, passed down from some unknown ancestor in the cells from which she’d grown his brain? What else did he know? _And how had he gotten in here?_ Phasma must have forgotten to lock the door; Rey would have her head for this. _What did he want?_

The answer to that question grew more obvious with every passing second their bodies were pressed together; as hard to deny as the erection he was grinding up against her and as infuriating as the knowledge that her body was complicit in the affront. Angry as she was at his imposition, she was also very, very wet. 

Which was lucky, really, because she didn’t want to think about what it would be like to try to take him dry, big as he was. She had grown still at the threat implicit in his words, _her words_ \- and now she weighed her options. He lay between her legs, his full weight on her, prohibiting all movement except that of her feet and hands, which made no discernible impact against him. She couldn’t move her head, even. His hand over her mouth held her immobilized. Her nostrils flared above it with hard, shaky breaths.

His other hand was between them, ripping at their clothes clumsily. Soon he’d shoved the borrowed trousers down, made shreds of the gossamer negligee, and then he was pushing into her without preamble, instinct telling him what experience couldn’t have. Clumsy and ungentle, he fucked her with all the urgency one would expect from a first-timer. The stretch was unimaginable, she was _definitely_ going to be sore tomorrow, and _how **dare** he? _

The anger was fuel, and it powered her in ways she didn’t fully understand, giving her strength. Did he think this leveled the playing field? That they were _equals_ now? Or that she would relinquish control to him so easily? He had no idea who he was dealing with. So she couldn’t fight him off. There were other ways to win. Besides, it had been _ages_ since she’d been properly fucked. _And it’s not like you never imagined it;_ she told herself - _just like this but with you on top._ Might as well take her silver lining where she could find it. Later, she would make him pay.

Now, on the other hand… Now was another thing. Now she was snaking a hand down to where their bodies crashed together wetly, rubbing furiously at the stiff button of her clit, where a thousand nerve endings jangled. She wouldn’t need much more to get there. Rage, curiously, had always made her horny. She’d never fucked anyone without having started a fight first. 

Her nipples were hard, rubbing against Ben’s sweaty chest as he thrusted, punishingly fast, hitting places inside her that she only knew existed because she’d read about them in anatomy textbooks. He was splitting her in two and she hadn’t had it like this in so long, _Oh who are you kidding you haven’t had it like this **ever**_ \- and her other hand was now at his hip, fingers digging into the flesh hard, but he didn’t feel it as she tried to guide his increasingly erratic movements. 

And then his hand moved from her mouth.

It moved from her mouth to her windpipe.

His massive, thick-fingered hand closed around her windpipe and there was no _air_ and it didn’t matter like it should because she was cumming; or about to, just on the edge with her vision whiting out and it _ought_ to be a triumph (this orgasm she’s snatched from the universe through sheer spite and defiance), except that just as she tipped over the cliff, he pulled back and off of her to shoot hot ropes of spend over her face and tits. Leaving her to clench desperately around nothing, her body clamoring for him and his cum burning in her eyeball, Ben sank face first into the downy mattress beside her, pausing only to huskily murmur “Good” into Rey’s ear before falling into a light doze. 

She regain awareness gradually. He’s snoring gently and its not hard to slide out from underneath his arm and crawl to where her lab coat hangs from the back of a chair before the vanity. In its pocket is a syringe containing a sedative powerful enough to stop a rhinoceros in its tracks. 

Ben is woken momentarily by a sharp pricking in his ass. When he wakes again, he is back where he started - strapped to the laboratory table.

Naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what happened to the comedy? Where are the puns? you namechecked mel brooks and now you're positing philosophical questions about consent in the summary? what even is this fic????
> 
> My apologies to anyone who is surprised by my veering dark and staying here. i look forward to hearing from you, whether in the comments, or on twitter @whoisEG or tumblr @onesharedbraincell.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a reckoning, and how they move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it has taken me to update - the perils of writing freeform without an outline! If the previous chapter and the long break didn't put you off of this story, know that I finally have a clear idea where it's going. Lightning struck yesterday; sometimes I just need time to ferment for a while. Also, it was important to me to do justice to Rey's processing of the events of the last chapter, which (somewhat unexpectedly) dredged up some stuff for me personally as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy what's to come! As always, please continue to mind the evolving tags as new ones are still being added.

She stewed about it. She pondered. She ruminated. Her approach had been flawed, she ultimately decided. He was obviously much more... _human_ than even she had believed possible. Not quite the blank slate she had envisioned. He had a man’s size, sure; but not that alone. Clearly, he also had a man’s intellect and desires... but no socialization. No childhood guidance or opportunity to learn social norms. He was too developed for how new he was - too strong, too fast to learn, too good at mimicking language and behavior. Inexplicably, he had knowledge which outstripped his experience, (a mystery she longed to solve) but he had no context in which to place that knowledge. What to do about it? 

She considered making good on her threat to dispose of him and start over, deciding against it pretty quickly. She reasoned that she had invested too much to do anything but press forward. It had nothing to do with the catch in her throat when he looked at her, or the tightness in her lower abdomen. It had even less to do, she told herself, with the bizarre and disturbing liberty she’d felt when he’d restrained her. Rey had always practiced rigid self-control. Mind over body was her credo; what she had been raised to believe in - the supremacy of the intellect over the weakness of the corporeal. No feelings or physical needs ever allowed to distract from her scientific ambitions. It was the only means by which she had survived her grandfather’s tutelage, his _expectations._

Last night had challenged that worldview; threatened it in some way that she couldn’t quite articulate, even to herself. Unable to move, powerless to resist, her continued existence in no way guaranteed, something primal had happened inside Rey. The door to a secret room, unlocked. With Ben’s hand around her throat she had been so _present,_ somehow more aware of and _in_ her body than she had ever felt before. Paradoxical or not, she had found it weirdly freeing.

Her anger towards him had faded - logic taking over for passion with the coming of day. He couldn’t have been expected to know better. Indeed, if anything, she had set a bad example for him with her little power play. She had misjudged what he was capable of - a dangerous mistake. She wouldn’t make it again. 

All the time Rey was analyzing the situation, examining her feelings about what had happened between them in the detached way she’d learned to do from a young age, she was also hard at work on the anesthetized Ben, her hands moving deftly even as her mind raced. She prepped a small area at the base of his skull. With a neatness and precision that would have satisfied any practicing surgeon, she made an opening, and implanted in it a tiny electrode. 

When the job was done and the wound treated, she gave him a little while to recover. She went upstairs and threw open the windows in their rooms to the sunlight. A thorough exploration of the adjoining wall revealed a secret door between them much like the one that led from her room to the lab. She had Igor install a lock - on her side.

Ben’s return to consciousness found her waiting patiently beside him. She unbuckled the restraints and he grabbed for her, clumsily; still groggy and confused. As he swiped at her, she fingered something in the pocket of her labcoat. The switch was her insurance policy, her winning hand. He writhed in pain, the electrode wired into his c4 cervical nerve causing pain to shoot through his body. He screamed, which must have been difficult, considering it also caused contraction of the diaphragm. _You like breath play, baby? This time **I’ll** make _you_ gasp. _

It wasn’t that she wanted to torture him. This wasn’t about revenge. This was about discipline - about communicating a clear boundary about what was (and what wasn’t) acceptable. _Positive **and** negative reinforcement._

They did not emerge from the lab, and the screams that echoed from within its stone walls rang throughout the manse. Left to their own devices upstairs. Phasma and Igor argued at length between themselves, but could not come to an agreement whether they were of pleasure or of pain. When - at long last - the noises finally stopped, Doctor Palpatine and her patient resurfaced. They seemed to have come to some sort of understanding.

In any case, in the weeks that followed they both seemed calmer, subdued somehow. They settled into a surprisingly comfortable cohabitation, and with no further incidents, Rey allowed herself to relax. She even started leaving the door unlocked sometimes, though she was careful not to examine her motivations too closely.

She needn’t have bothered. Ben had learned his lesson. He stayed in his room and didn’t reach out for her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, i look forward to hearing from you on twitter (@whoisEG), tumblr (onesharedbraincell), and in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> so....this was pretty spontaneous and uh...yeah. hope you enjoy!


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